


Still Standing

by Hovercraft79



Series: All The Magic [5]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, abuse recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hovercraft79/pseuds/Hovercraft79
Summary: Safe from the clutches of the terrifying Mistress Broomhead, Hecate now must heal the wounds on her body as well as her soul. She’s lost her home, her confidence, her plans for the future. What she hasn’t lost is Ada, who does her best to create a safe haven where Hecate can recover. But their sanctuary is threatened when a new challenge arrives from the Great Witch herself. As the entire Cackle's family rallies around Hecate, she struggles to find the strength to keep moving forward.
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle & Alma Cackle, Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle & Hardbroom, Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle/Hardbroom
Series: All The Magic [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776937
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40
Collections: The Hackle Summer Trope Challenge





	Still Standing

**Author's Note:**

> This fic covers the Week 4 prompt ‘Retreat.’ Hecate is sorely in need of one at this point.
> 
> The title comes the song by Sir Elton John. Hecate may have been through it, and may still have a ways to go, but she’s still standing.
> 
> Thanks to Sparky for her tireless work on these. She couldn’t believe we were actually doing this one on a Friday. In the daytime.

* * *

Ada slipped into the infirmary, nodding at the medi-witch as she made her way to the screened-off bed in the back corner. It had been three days since they’d brought Hecate back from Darkwood Cottage. She’d spent almost the entire time in a fitful sleep, waking only when the medi-witch tended the blistering wounds on her back.

In the days since Broomhead had been taken into custody, a dozen other witches had come forward, confirming that the same ‘methods’ had been inflicted on them. It was a veritable who’s who of teachers in the witching world. Ada was glad that Hecate had missed the flurry of publicity surrounding the report. She was doubly glad that Hecate’s background had remained out of the news.

She and her mother had circled endlessly around what to do next, finally realizing that that was a decision best left to Hecate. It didn’t stop Ada from making a list of suggestions, though.

Carefully stepping around the screen, Ada stopped short when she saw Hecate sitting up with Morgana in her lap. “Hello,” she whispered, warmed when Hecate’s face broke into a tired, but genuine smile.

“Ada…” Hecate leaned over and patted the chair next to her bed. “Miss Bismuth said you’ve been in to visit. I’m sorry I’ve missed you.”

“I daresay you needed your rest.” Dropping into the chair, Ada took Hecate’s hand in her own. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore.” She squeezed Ada’s hand. “Like a fool.” She pulled her hand free and returned to stroking Morgana. “I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble. Again.” She cleared her throat and forced herself to continue. “I expect you’ll be looking for someone else to take over the potions classes next year.”

“Then you would be wrong,” Ada insisted. “You are still my first choice.” She ducked her head so she could look Hecate in the eyes. “You will always be my first choice.”

Hecate looked up at her with shining eyes. “Are you certain?”

“I’ve never been more certain about anything. Don’t let that horrible woman make you doubt yourself.” She waited for Hecate to think about what she was saying, relieved when the younger woman’s resolute nod finally came. “Good. Besides, not every witch can say her teaching credentials are signed by the Great Witch herself.”

“The Great Witch…?” Panic flashed across Hecate’s eyes. “She… knows?” Shamefaced, Hecate turned away. “Does everyone? What about Indigo? Does everyone know about that as well?” She pulled her knees up to her chest, jostling Morgana and causing her familiar to growl and resettle herself at the end of Hecate’s bed.

“No… it’s not like that.” Ada shifted over and sat on the mattress at Hecate’s feet. “Broomhead… Wormwood… whatever… is in custody. You know how small the witching world is. Once word got out, people came out of the woodwork with stories about how she’d treated them.” Ada forced her voice to stay calm, hiding her disgust and rage at the stories she’d heard. She knew Hecate would have similar stories, and it broke her heart. She feared Hecate would believe the disgust and rage was directed at her, and that broke Ada’s heart even more. “You’re something of a hero, Hecate. I know you don’t feel like it, but you’re the person who exposed that vile woman’s abuses.”

“All I did was try to survive… and protect Morgana.” She finally met Ada’s eyes. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did survive. And you did protect Morgana.” Ada rubbed the familiar between her ears. She already looked more like herself – she’d put on some weight and her coat had regained its glossiness. Even the bald patch near her tail was already growing in, thanks to a variety of poultices and potions Ada had created for her. “You are the first person to figure out a way to get a message out. If you hadn’t sent Morgana… I don’t know what would have happened.” Ada shuddered. She did know. She’d read and re-read every story to have come out. She’d read until her mother had forced her to stop.

Sighing, Ada gave Hecate’s foot a squeeze. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through these past few months, but I’m here for you, and I will listen whenever you need to talk. If you need to talk. Mother’s also spoken with Miss Hagsmet, and she’s prepared to come anytime you’d like if you wish to speak with her.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Hecate shifted into a cross-legged position, hands fidgeting in her lap. “Miss Bismuth says I should be able to leave the infirmary tomorrow.”

“That’s good news!” Ada exclaimed before she noticed that Hecate didn’t seem pleased. “Isn’t it?” When Hecate stayed quiet, Ada persisted. “Hecate? Please. Tell me what you need.”

Hecate shrugged, wincing when she moved her shoulder. She didn’t say anything more for a long time. “I don’t… I don’t want to go back to the cottage. Not yet.” She finally looked up at Ada, embarrassment mingled with fear in her eyes.

“You don’t have to. Not now. Not ever if you don’t want to,” Ada reassured her. “Don’t give it another thought.”

A grateful smile flickered across Hecate’s face before disappearing. “Thank you. I’m content to go back to my hutch. I believe it’s currently being used as a storeroom.”

“You’re soon to be a teacher here Hecate; you don’t need to stay in one of the student hutches.” _Certainly not a storeroom_ , Ada thought. “We can go ahead and get you set up on the faculty floor if you’d like.” Hecate shrugged again. “You don’t have to decide today. End of term is in a few days; there’s plenty of time to get things sorted.”

They both looked up as Nurse Bismuth peeked her head around the screen, telling them that it was time for her to tend to the wounds on Hecate’s shoulder.

* * *

“Well, what do you think?” Ada asked nervously as she set down the cat carrier. “We can always go back to the castle if it doesn’t suit.”

Hecate looked around the cozy interior of the yurt. Warmth radiated from a pot-bellied stove that sat in the middle of the room. Plush chairs flanked an even plusher sofa all facing the stove. Behind it stood a small dining table with a pair of chairs. A spare but tidy kitchen lined one section of the curved wall while two beds lined the wall opposite. The only enclosed place, the loo, filled the remaining section. Colorful cushions and rugs created a warm, inviting space.

“You… you did all this for me?” Hecate looked at Ada in wonderment. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Ada unlatched the carrier, releasing Morgana and Pendle to explore the yurt. Alma had assigned Hecate a set of rooms on the faculty floor of the castle, but they needed some repair and wouldn’t be ready for a couple of weeks. Ada had taken the delay as an opportunity and asked Hecate if she might like to get away for a couple of weeks. Hecate had agreed, though her response had been less than enthusiastic. Hecate’s everything had been less than enthusiastic since her escape from Broomhead. She’d left the details to Ada, who had perhaps gone overboard rather than risk disappointing Hecate.

“I thought about a couple of sleeping bags and a tent, but…” Ada shrugged, grinning impishly. “It didn’t sound nearly as much fun.” She stepped closer. “It’s still not too late if you’d rather have the place to yourself. It won’t hurt my feelings, I promise.”

“I’m not sure I need any more time to myself at this point.” Hecate waved a hand, unpacking her clothes into a small cupboard at the foot of her bed. She looked at Ada, who seemed to be hesitating. “I’d appreciate the company.” Ada smiled and put her own things away. “I’ll make us some tea.”

For the third night in a row, Ada sat on the edge of her bed listening to Hecate in the throes of a nightmare. Outside the yurt, magic roiled through the air, whipping the tree branches together, howling in the darkness. Inside, the magic crackled in the air like static electricity, causing Ada to jump whenever it snapped against her skin. Morgana and Pendle both stood sentry over Hecate as she thrashed in her sleep. On the first night, Ada had learned the hard way that she should not try to wake her. Grimly, she pushed herself to her feet and padded over to the pot-bellied stove so she could make a pot of chamomile tea.

Just as the kettle boiled, Hecate sat up with a gasp, sending the cats running under the sofa. Ada brought her tea, sitting at the foot of Hecate’s bed until she calmed enough to take the cup with shaking hands. “I’m sorry…”

Ada waved her apology away. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, truly.” She summoned a cup for herself, and they sat together, sipping tea while Hecate’s breathing calmed. Shivering, Ada magicked another log into the stove before casting a slight warming spell for good measure.

The days had gone smoothly so far. Ada had located the yurt as far away from Darkwood Cottage as possible, in a lovely clearing near the edge of the lake. They’d spent their days walking, reading, playing chess, and planning for the upcoming term. Hecate had been hesitant about planning but, with Ada’s encouragement, had soon warmed to it.

Nights, though, nights were a different story. In her sleep, Hecate’s iron-willed control over her emotions slipped, allowing Broomhead’s abuses free reign over her psyche. “Do you want to tell me about it?” Ada asked, as she had each night so far. As of yet, Hecate hadn’t answer—

“I can’t do what she wants me to do…” she whispered, absently rubbing her ear. “It hurts and I can’t… I can’t make my magic work… Not the way she wants.” Hecate shook herself, bringing her eyes back into focus. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear…”

“I do,” Ada said, firmly. “But only when you’re ready to tell me. I’m here, but I won’t pry.” She also wouldn’t bring up Miss Hagsmet. She’d made that mistake the first night. Hecate wasn’t ready to speak to her counselor about any of this yet.

The next few days passed in much the same way – with two exceptions. On their sixth day, Alma had called Ada back to Cackle’s to deal with matters for the upcoming term. Hecate had decided to stay in the yurt. Ada had returned to find Hecate sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by the scattered contents of the yurt. The smell of uncontrolled magic hung heavy in the air. Hecate stared at a red scroll in her hands. Ada recognized it at once as an official communication from the Magic Council.

“Hecate?” She’d asked. “What’s happened?” She’d approached slowly, kneeling beside Hecate, who hadn’t said a word but had handed her the paper with shaking hands.

Ada had read it through twice. A summons. Hecate had been summoned to give testimony before the Great Witch about what she’d suffered under Ernestine Broomhead. A heavy coin, stamped with the Seal of the Great Witch had been included. It would allow Hecate to transfer directly to the Magic Council. Ada had hefted it in her hand while she searched for the words that might help Hecate. “You can practice with me, if you’d like,” she’d offered. Hecate had said nothing, and Ada had quietly gone about putting the yurt back in order.

The second exception… that had been yesterday. Hecate had been on edge since the summons – restless, distracted, with anger and magic running just beneath her skin. To make matters worse, a late winter storm had blown in, bringing howling winds and snow. Hecate had been occupied with making a pot of tea when Ada had accidentally knocked a teacup off the table. It shattered on the stone hearth of the stove. Before she realized what had happened, Ada found herself pressed against the wall, held by Hecate’s power so tightly she had to work to breathe. It took less than a handful of heartbeats for a horrified Hecate to realize what she’d done. She immediately released Ada, sobbing an apology before shutting herself away in the bathroom.

It had taken Ada hours of pleading to coax her out. Finally, Ada had convinced her that she had to use the loo herself and that Hecate had to come out. She had, but she’d neither spoken nor made eye contact with Ada since then.

Ada spent the rest of the day making tea, making soup, making pointless conversation. That night the nightmare came as usual. Ada waited with the tea as she always did, pointedly ignoring the glistening tears as they rolled down Hecate’s cheeks.

Now, Hecate sat silently across from her at their tiny table. Ada had made her favorite breakfast: egg white omelets with spinach and mushrooms they’d gathered on one of their walks. Three times Hecate had started to speak but lost her nerve.

Finally, she pushed the untouched omelet away. “I can’t… tell you how sorry I am, Ada. Yesterday… I don’t know what…” Hecate trailed away. “That’s a lie. I do know…” Hecate’s voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. Agonized eyes met Ada’s. “What if she made me like her? What if I do that to a student, Ada? Surely you must see that I can’t become a teacher. I’m not fit for purpose.”

Ada folded her napkin carefully, considering her response. In truth, she’d thought much the same thing herself yesterday. Briefly. Before she’d seen the horrified look in Hecate’s eyes when she realized what she’d done. “What I see is a woman who’s been through a terrible ordeal, who reacted on instinct and self-preservation. I do not see another Ernestine Broomhead sitting across the table from me. Did she ever, for a single moment, regret what she did to you? Was she ever put off her meal by the things she’s done?”

Hecate thought about it. “No.” She smirked. “She ate like a horse.”

“That’s how I know, dear. You will never be her. It’s been two weeks – less than two weeks. Give yourself time to heal, Hecate.”

“I don’t know how.” She picked up her fork and poked at her omelet. “Perhaps… perhaps I do need to talk to Miss Hagsmet,” she said, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

“It’s not a weakness to accept help when you need it, Hecate. It’s your strength of character that will see you through this. I have complete faith in that.” She buttered a piece of toast. “You’ll see to it that Broomhead will never be able to hurt another witch, you’ll put all of this behind you, you’ll start working with the girls…”

“And generally live happily ever after?” Hecate asked, skeptically.

“Something like that.” Ada winked and bit the corner off her toast. _At least she’s talking again_ , Ada thought, relieved. She’d be certain to have Miss Hagsmet there within the hour.

* * *

Hecate waved a hand and rearranged the furniture in front of the fireplace again, still not satisfied. There was no getting around it; her second-hand furniture, cast-offs scrounged from Cackle’s basement storage or salvaged from the cottage, didn’t fit in her new quarters.

When she’d told Ada she didn’t want to go back to Darkwood Cottage, Ada hadn’t batted an eye. Quite the opposite. She’d looked delighted when she said that Hecate could have her own quarters on the faculty floor. Never having been in a teacher’s quarters before, Hecate hadn’t known what to expect – something a bit larger than her old hutch, certainly. Perhaps her own bathroom.

She hadn’t expected what amounted to her own flat. Two bedrooms, a comfortably sized living room, small kitchen with a dining table, and the private bathroom. She’d stared at Mrs. Cackle in disbelief when she’d first shown her.

Hecate was still pondering where to put her sofa when a sharp knock sounded at the door. She opened it to find Miss Bat standing on the other side, holding a loaf of homemade bread.

“May your new home never know hunger, Sister.” Gwen handed over the loaf and walked in, taking a look around. “I’d forgotten that Mrs. Drill’s rooms had such a lovely view of the lake.”

“Thank you…” Hecate sniffed the bread, breathing in the warm smell of yeast and the bright tang of rosemary. She was just about to close the door when Miss Coriander appeared.

“Well met, Miss Hardbroom! Welcome to our faculty family.” She held up an intricately carved stone jar before opening the lid and revealing pink sea salt crystals. “May the life lived in this home always be full of flavor.”

Hecate thanked her and placed the salt cellar on the counter next to the bread. She supposed she needed to offer her guests some tea. She summoned her tea set to the coffee table and started water heating.

“What are your plans for the spare bedroom?” Gwen asked.

Before Hecate could answer, someone else knocked at the door. This time it was Miss Swoop, the flying teacher, and Nurse Bismuth. She blinked nervously, forgetting for a moment to welcome them inside.

Miss Swoop handed her a basket filled with decorative candles in glass jars. “May you live in light and happiness.”

Miss Bismuth gave her a lovely set of kitchen towels embroidered with understated roosters. “Can’t exactly keep the real thing here in the castle,” she grinned. “Won’t exactly alert you to any dangers, but they’ll keep you from burning your hand on a hot kettle.”

More and more of the staff came, each bringing a housewarming gift. Some gifts were traditional witching blessings for the new home, others more practical. Even Miss Gullet came, offering her a tired chamomile plant in a cheap pot. Hecate thanked her, nonetheless, placing the plant in the window.

Large as her quarters were, they were getting uncomfortably full. She summoned more chairs from the dungeons as well as more teacups from the dining hall.

Just as she was starting to feel overwhelmed, someone else knocked at the door. Whipping it open, she heaved a sigh of relief. “Ada… thank heavens… I…” She ducked into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her. “What’s happening? There’s so many people.”

“An old Cackle’s tradition, welcoming a new member of the staff.” She winked and held up her gift: two bottles of wine. “May your life be filled with joy and prosperity.”

“With you, how could it be anything less?” Hecate said, blushing when she realized what she’d said.

“I feel the same way.” Ada jerked her chin towards the door. “Shall we wade back into the fray?”

Hecate nodded and opened the door. Now that Ada was there, Hecate felt like she could endure whatever the evening might bring.

It brought almost the entire faculty at one point or another. Hecate’s counter overflowed with gifts, and twice more she had to transfer in additional chairs and cups. At last, Miss Bat declared that it was time for Hecate to get to enjoy her new home and began shooing people out.

Ada hung back, pleased when Hecate closed the door after the last guest trickled out – even more pleased when Hecate sagged against the door and smiled at her. “I fear I am not a natural hostess.” She took a deep breath and savored the sudden quiet. After a moment she waved both of her hands, returning all the chairs and teacups to their proper places. Pushing off the door, she joined Ada on the sofa, flopping down beside her. She winced as a spring poked her bad shoulder. “Thank you, for this… I know you organized it.”

“Actually… I didn’t.” Ada enjoyed the stunned confusion on Hecate’s face. “In fact…” she snapped her fingers and Alma Cackle appeared at the doorway.

Hecate scrambled to her feet, bowing in front of Alma and giving her the traditional greeting.

Alma waved her off with a roll of her eyes. “No need for all that. Besides, you’re a grown woman now; turn your hand over.” Alma tapped her own forehead with the back of her hand, chuckling softly as Hecate realized she’d used the formal children’s greeting. “Now, wood is one of the traditional gifts for a witch in her new home.” She held her hands out and summoned an oaken log. “May your home and those who fill it remain steadfast and strong, providing shelter from all the storms that life will send your way.” She floated the log into the fireplace and set it alight.

“Thank you,” Hecate whispered, brushing away an errant tear. She cried so much more easily now. Since Broomhead. At least this one was for a happier reason.

“That one was from Ada,” Alma said, grinning. “Here’s the one from me.” She barely hesitated long enough for Ada to get off the sofa before waving her arms. The threadbare hand-me-down furniture disappeared. In its place sat a new sofa, upholstered in rich, tufted leather that had been dyed a deep forest green. Her reading chair had been replaced by a matching pair of wingbacks. Antique mahogany coffee and end tables finished the set. Hecate stood with her hands clapped over her mouth, unable to breathe, much less speak. “Welcome, Hecate. Welcome home.”

* * *

Hecate hurried to her quarters as soon as the last class finished, weaving through a sea of girls in a hurry to get to free time. The knot in Hecate’s stomach tightened with every step. She clutched the fabric of her skirt tighter and tighter, finally giving in to the overwhelming urge to transfer.

She materialized seconds later in her quarters, her refuge. Glancing at the clock on her mantel, she saw it was just past eleven. In scarcely more than two hours, she would be in front of the Great Witch and the entire Magic Council – and who knew who else – testifying about her treatment under Ernestine Broomhead’s tutelage.

She didn’t know which terrified her more: facing her tutor or leaving Cackle’s for the first time since she was thirteen years old. She nearly jumped out of her skin when someone knocked at the door. Hecate started to pretend she wasn’t there, but she could feel the gentle warmth of Ada’s magic on the other side. She waved a hand, opening the door as she sank onto her couch.

“I noted you weren’t at lunch,” Ada said as she walked in carrying a tray. “I don’t blame you.” She uncovered a plate filled with a light meal that wasn’t likely to upset Hecate’s stomach. “I know you probably don’t want it, but please… try to eat something.” Ada left the tray and prepared a pot of tea. “I made the cucumber sandwiches myself. Would you like to try one of those?”

Hecate took one off the plate and bit the corner, absently chewing. “I don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“Just tell them what happened.” Ada poured the tea, fixing Hecate’s the way she liked it, black with a slice of lemon, no sugar, and the tiniest splash of milk. She held the cup out until Hecate took it. “I wish I could go with you.” She still didn’t understand why she hadn’t received a summons. She’d been at the cottage along with her mother.

Hecate’s eyes closed and her shoulders slumped. “I wish you could, too.”

Ada hesitated, unsure if Hecate would welcome it or not, but she finally slid her hand, palm up, into the space between them. Hecate grabbed it at once, squeezing it so tightly it was just short of painful. They sat that way, in silence, until Alma knocked on the door an hour later.

“It’s time then. Are you ready?” Alma sent a questioning glance towards Ada, who simply shrugged.

“Not really, but I haven’t any choice, do I?” Hecate answered, her eyes downcast, shoulders slumped.

Alma smiled gently. “Not really, dearie.” She turned to Ada. “I expect you’ll have things well in hand until we return.”

Ada nodded. “I will.” She turned to Hecate. “I have complete and utter faith in you, Hecate. Whatever that woman may have done, she can’t hurt you now.”

“We need to go.” Alma squeezed Ada’s elbow. She wished that Ada was going with them as well. She didn’t know how they’d managed, but somehow Ada and Hecate had become fast friends. They kept each other steady. She feared Hecate would need all the steadiness she could get today.

“I don’t care what time it is; come find me when you get back.” Ada squeezed Hecate’s hands and transferred away while she could still keep her emotions under control.

“Do you have your coin?” Hecate nodded. “Good. It’s been a long time. Are you ready? Things probably aren’t the way you remember them.”

“I don’t know how they could be,” she whispered. The cucumber sandwich sat heavily in her stomach. She magicked her cloak and hat into place before clutching her coin to her chest and taking Alma’s hand.

They appeared on a busy street, cars whizzing by. Hecate looked around in wonder, Broomhead momentarily forgotten. She’d have stepped into the street if Alma hadn’t grabbed her elbow. “Look sharp now, Hecate. We don’t want to see you wind up a wet spot on the pavement, do we?”

“No, Mrs. Cackle, that would not be my first choice.” She looked around more carefully. People hurried up and down the sidewalk, busy with their own lives. Hecate knew most of them had to be Ordinary, but not all of them. She knew their cloaking spell kept the Ordinaries from seeing them in their formal robes, but Hecate’s heart still tripped when it appeared as though someone looked straight at them.

“Come along, then. When all this is over, we’ll take a long walk around.” Alma hooked her arm through Hecate’s and escorted her across the street and up to the gates of the Magic Council. “ _Aperi Portum_ ,” she said and waited for the gates to open.

Once they were through, the air shimmered and she could see dozens of people milling around in formal robes. Most took little notice of them, sparing no more than a curious glance as they appeared in the courtyard. One woman, though, a few years younger than Hecate, stared at them before whispering fervently to her companion. Hecate pulled her eyes away and edged closer to Mrs. Cackle. The reason she was here slammed back to the forefront of her mind.

Hecate heard the woman’s shoes approaching before the quiet voice stopped them. “Excuse me? Are you Miss Hardbroom? Miss Hecate Hardbroom?”

Alma stopped, pulling Hecate to a stop with her. “I am.” Up close, the woman looked even younger, hardly more than a child. Hecate thought she couldn’t have been much older than the girls in the Fifth-Year potions class she’d assisted with that morning. “Well met…”

“Elise Grimm,” she said, returning the greeting. “I just wanted to say thank you… for putting a stop to her…” She gestured to the others in the courtyard. “Look at all of them. There’s so many here, and my representative to the Council says this is only a tiny fraction of the people she’s tutored.”

Hecate scanned the crowd again. Elise was right, it was too many people. “I don’t know that I did anything more than anyone else… I simply tried to endure, same as you.”

Elise shook her head so forcefully that Hecate feared she would send her hat flying. “Not like me… I also wanted to say that I’m sorry… If I’d spoken out… I was the girl Broomhead tutored before you. I’m so sorry…”

Hecate might have lost her feet if Alma hadn’t had hold of her. “You…” _Only had to say… could have stopped her… could have saved me…_ she thought. All she said was “You were only trying to survive.” She turned to Alma. “Let’s go inside.”

* * *

At three minutes to midnight, Hecate transferred into her rooms. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised to find Ada fast asleep in one of the wingback chairs with Morgana curled on her lap. Hecate couldn’t help but smile, even though she felt a twinge guilty for the late hour. Magicking her hat and cloak away, as well as the bag of things she’d brought back from the city, Hecate knelt beside Ada.

“Hello, Morgana,” she whispered, rubbing her familiar’s nose with the tip of her finger. “Have you been keeping Ada company?” Morgana purred her greeting before hopping down.

The movement jostled Ada just enough to wake her. “You’re back.” She sniffed and sat up straighter. Squinting in the dim light, she studied Hecate’s features. She looked tired, certainly, but also more relaxed, more at ease than Ada had seen her in months. She looked beautiful. “Is it done then?” she asked, forcing her mind back to the straight and narrow.

“It’s done.” She smiled and squeezed Ada’s knee. “How about I make us a nice pot of tea and I’ll tell you all about it.”

It didn’t take long to fill Ada in on the hearing. The hearing itself hadn’t taken long. The Great Witch had asked Alma what she’d found at the cottage. The glamour itself had been enough for the Council to recommend confiscating Broomhead’s powers. Hecate had taken the stand first, but because there were so many potential witnesses, they limited the questions to about ten minutes each. Once everyone had spoken, the Great Witch had thanked them for their service and dismissed them. “As we left, she made sure to tell your mother that the token was good until midnight.” She smiled a bit guiltily now. “We could have been back before dinner.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you weren’t. Did Mother take you to that little Italian bistro just down the road? What’s it called?”

“Mastrangelo’s. She did. And then we went to a bookstore and a tea shop and… If I’m only to ever have one day away from here, she did her best to make it as close to perfect as she could.” She smiled shyly. “I wish you had been there.”

“So do I, dear.” In truth, Ada had struggled with the notion that she would have to stay behind. Missing Hecate’s one chance to leave the Academy had been a bitter pill indeed. “I’m glad you had a lovely time, though, truly I am.”

“So am I. But if I’m being honest… I’m glad to be home.”


End file.
